


Red Silk and Wolf Bites

by Open_Sky



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Boat Sex, Dany loves her scarf and what Jon gave her beneath, F/M, Sexual Tension, a hickey fic, a lil' smutty, after-promo inspiration, just because why not, they spent a month fucking on that ship and no-one can convine me otherwise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 20:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17351723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Open_Sky/pseuds/Open_Sky
Summary: And that scarf.He felt a twitch in his breeches and swore inwardly, now was really not the time to rememberwhy exactlythe red silk was wound around her neck the way it was, careful not to show anything beneath.





	Red Silk and Wolf Bites

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I'm aware that the scarf may not hide anything. But let's imagine the what-ifs. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> A big thanks to aliciutza for the beta-work and the gorgeous moodboard! Thank you, Auntie, you are awesome <3

 

 

 

* * *

 

Dany bit her lip, trying to suppress a moan as Jon suckled on the tiny nub above her centre. She had never been touched so intimately, with such care and passion that made her back arch off the bed and her fingers grip the headboard so tightly that her knuckles probably turned all white, but Jon– oh, damn this man, he was ravishing her, devouring her, and she gave herself to him willingly.

A finger traced her lower lips before easing into her wetness and she gasped, the sensations becoming too much to bear, his mouth licking and sucking and biting while his finger moved in and out, and she had to touch him, to stop him because she was sure she would explode.

Her hands dropped to his head, needing to yank him away but she held him there instead, pushed him into the depths of her, urged him on, and he obliged gladly, closing his lips around the hard pearl and circling his tongue as she climbed higher and higher. Then a second finger pushed into her and she fell over, feet curling and head spinning, she couldn’t see and couldn’t hear, only feel the white-hot pleasure as it engulfed her whole.

It took a few moments to regain her senses. Dany opened her eyes and found Jon hovering above her. He was so beautiful, his dark curls freed from his bun, untamed, wild, his pupils blown wide, his mouth slightly open. Her insides clenched, her tired muscles flexing in anticipation.

 _“I’m not finished yet, Your Grace,”_ he hissed in her ear and the next moment he was buried inside her to the hilt, her strangled cry muffled by his lips on hers. He waited a second for her to adjust, then drew back and lunged again, the sheer force of it pushing her up on the bed. Her nails clawed at his back and he grunted, pinning her body under him with his weight and burying his face in her neck. His hips snapped against hers forcefully, she was sure he would split her in two and she would never grow tired of it.

With a powerful thrust, he reached that sensitive spot inside her and her head fell back, her neck an easy target as he sunk his teeth into her skin, marking her as his own, licking and sucking on the same spot.

He rammed into her again and again, the length of him pushing so deep it almost hurt, hitting her _there_ with every lounge and she screamed without a sound, the pleasure robbing her lungs of air as she came.

Her walls spasmed around him but he didn't slow down, chasing his own end. With a few strong thrusts he jerked forward, and she wound her arms around his neck, enjoying how the warmth of his seed filled her.

 _I’m not finished with you either,_ she thought. A content sigh left her lips, and when he tried to lift himself off of her, she kept him there, never wanting to let him go.

 

He left before dusk, neither of them ready to share what they had with the world. Besides, they would need to tread carefully with their respective advisors, for probably not all of them would approve of what occurred in her bed that night.

Dany groaned. She could imagine Tyrion’s reaction, somewhere between anger and exasperation, and honestly, she _could_ see why he would judge them, but... but he just didn't understand. He didn't understand this pull between them, this power that made her fly to the end of the world after him, made her step aside without a word when he appeared at her doorstep, made her wish they stayed on this ship forever.

 _They will come around,_ she thought. They would just have to tell them at the right time. And even if they had any problems with her relationship with Jon, she couldn’t care less, not when her heart suffered so much in her loveless life, not when they were about to face death itself.

She wouldn’t let him go. Her lips curved in a soft smile as she remembered the previous evening. He had stepped in her room like the king he was, his eyes on her the whole time, never glancing away, not even once.

 

The first time he made her his was urgent and quick with just a hint of uncertainty, both of them having had enough of the wait. She needed him and he needed her, and they took what they both wanted. The second time was soft and slow, a dance of mapping the other’s body with their hands, their mouths, staring at each other and whispering sweet nothings as they joined. The third time was forceful and unfaltering, both of them knowing that the sun would rise before long and come the morning they would need to be apart.

Dany buried her fingers into her hair and gently massaged her scalp. Jon may have taken her thrice, she thought with fond exasperation, leaving her body full with delicious ache, but not one time did they remember to unbraid her hair, which she had a hard time to do by herself once he left.

 _He sure is talented. Especially in messing me up,_ she giggled to herself, almost missing the two silent knocks on her door. She knew who it was and tried to keep a straight face but failed miserably.

“Your Grace?”

“Come in, Missandei,” she answered her friend, not at all bothered by her nakedness as the woman closed the door behind her. Dany bit her lip to contain her grin. It’s not like she didn't intend to tell her, but she wouldn’t have wanted to do it at that moment, not without discussing it first with Jon.

“Would you help me with my hair please?” she beamed, although her smile faded a bit as she noticed the peculiar look on Missandei’s face.

“Have you had a good night, My Queen?” the Naathi raised her eyebrows, and even from steps afar she could see her biting her lips, as if in restraint. Curious. “You seem to be in a rather... good mood.”

“Yes, thank you. I slept quite well– what?”

“I see,” Missandei muttered before bursting into a fit of giggles. “I’m sure you slept _well_ , though I’m not sure how _much.”_

It took her a moment to understand, but then she realised that her friend knew. Her eyes widened in horror. _Oh damn, it can't be._

“Surely, we weren’t _that_ loud?”

Her friend stopped for a second to stare at her, lips slightly parted, but then she was laughing even harder.

“Look into the mirror, Your Grace.”

She stood with a frown. _What in the Seven Hells is she t— Oh._

There were unmistakable purple-red bruises on her skin, a few on her shoulder and neck, and she could even see one on her left breast, quite obvious evidence of the night’s activities. Of course in their passion’s frenzy she hadn’t even noticed. With a careful hand she brushed over her neck and couldn’t help but laugh along with her friend.

 _Damn that man,_ she thought as fondness and mirth bloomed in her heart. _A wolf indeed._

 

***

 

 _Finally home,_ he thought as they dismounted, Winterfell’s old, familiar walls around them. _And she is with me._ Daenerys. Dany. They came _home_ , because it would become her home too, he knew.

“Jon,” he heard Sansa’s voice and smiled. He had missed her terribly, despite their small quarrels, and it felt good to hear her voice.

And Arya. And Bran. Oh, he couldn’t wait to finally see them again, although they seemed to be missing from the courtyard. _No wonder_ , he mused, since Bran might not have been comfortable coming out, and Arya... _Well, Arya had never liked these fancy entrances_ , he chuckled.

With a few long steps, Jon was there, wrapping his arms around Sansa. “Sister,” he breathed and pressed a kiss into her hair. “It’s good to see you again.”

“You too, brother.” There was a strange undertone in her voice which made him wince, shifting awkwardly as they parted. He wasn't ignorant of the fact that she was staring right behind him the whole time and he had a good guess what, or rather, _who_ had her attention.

Jon knew Sansa wasn't happy with his decision to bend the knee, but he would make her understand. _Daenerys would make her understand_ , he smiled inwardly, this fierce woman who completely stole his heart.

Finally, he turned back to see as his queen approached them, and _Gods_ , there had never been a more beautiful sight. _Only when she is naked and panting under you,_ a traitorous voice whispered in his head, and suddenly he felt very hot wrapped in his usual leathers and fur cloak while he could only hope that his face was not as red as he suspected.

_Breathe, godsdamnit, breathe._

He would never get used to how gorgeous she was.

 _And that scarf._ He felt a twitch in his breeches and swore inwardly, now was really not the time to remember _why exactly_ the red silk was wound around her neck the way it was, careful not to show anything beneath.

He recalled the second time he had entered her cabin, how horrified he was upon seeing the marks he had left on her porcelain skin, how ashamed that he completely let himself go the previous night, but Dany just laughed it off. She would treasure them, she snickered, and it was almost enough to leave him undone then and there, a rush of possessiveness filling him. _‘I love when you are wild,’_ she murmured in his ear, and who was he to deny her anything?

“Winterfell is yours, Your Grace,” his sister’s words interrupted his indecent thoughts, and he hoped no one could see how flustered he just became. _Like a horny green boy, damn it._

He swore under his breath.

It would be a very, very long day.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos, Comments and Bookmarks, as well as constructive criticism are always appreciated! Please, let me know what you think :))


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